The Status Civilization

"Joe!" The little credit thief grinned at him. "A sad place to meet, Will." "What happened to you?" "Politics," Joe said. "It's a dangerous business on Omega, especially during the time of the Games. I thought I was safe. But ..." He shrugged his shoulders. "I was selected for the Games this morning." "Is there any chance of getting out of it?" "There's a chance," Joe said. "I told your girl about you, so perhaps her friends can do something. As for me, I'm expecting a reprieve." "Is that possible?" Barrent asked. "Anything is possible. It's better not to hope for it, though." "What are the Games like?" Barrent asked. "They're the sort of thing you'd expect," Joe said. "Man-to-man combats, battles against various types of Omegan flora and fauna, needlebeam and heatgun duels. It's all copied from an old Earth festival, I'm told." "And if anyone survives," Barrent said, "they're beyond the law." "That's right." "But what does it mean to be beyond the law?" "I don't know," Joe said. "Nobody seems to know much about that. All I could find out is, survivors of the Games are taken by The Black One. It's not supposed to be pleasant." "I can understand that. Very little on Omega is pleasant." "It isn't a bad place," Joe said. "You just haven't the proper spirit of--" He was interrupted by the arrival of a detachment of guards. It was time for the occupants of Barrent's cell to enter the Arena. "No reprieve," Barrent said.